GI Joe: America's Special Mission Force
by Opie Lives
Summary: This is an attempt to remake G.I. Joe into a more real world type of story. Be kind, It's my first fan fiction.
1. Chapter 1

**G.I.****JOE:**** America's**** Special**** Mission**** Force**

Paktika Province, Afghanistan May 2002

The six man Ranger patrol worked its way through a pass in the Shahi-Kot mountains, eyes nervously checking every potential hiding spot. This was two months after the foul up of Operation Anaconda and scattered groups of insurgents remained active in the region. The patrol came to a stop in a thin copse of trees and stared out at the desolation.

The young Japanese-American point man slowly worked his way to a boulder near the trees. He motioned the all clear as the team followed.

"Okay Storm, you and Sap move to that gully and cover us." Staff Sergeant Lonzo Wilkinson said as he pointed forward.

Storm, the smallest man on the team at a wiry 5'8", gave one last sweep; looking through the scope of his M4A1 carbine. He took a tentative step forward, covering his left.

Dick "Sap" Sapperstein followed, covering the right with his M60E3 machine gun. Sap was the largest man on the team at 6'4" and built like a bulldozer.

They slowly made their way to the gully, a small hollow studded with boulders from centuries of rock slides. Storm pushed his black hair back under his head band and motioned for the others to follow.

Lonzo "Stalker" Wilkinson looked right with his M4/M203 combo. The 6'2" black man crouched low, squinting beneath the tan beret he wore, as he stalked forward like a big cat.

Private Ramon Escobar came next carrying the radio. The medium built Brooklyn native watched the left with his M4.

They took up positions on either side of the gully as Stalker motioned the next two. Sergeant Wade Collins moved his tall, slim body with a nervous gait; scanning with his suppressed M14. Sweat dripped from the red blond hair beneath his helmet.

Shooter came last on drag. He was slightly over six feet with a medium build and his dark hair cut short beneath his boonie hat, which was pulled low over his blue eyes. They were halfway to the gully when Shooter dropped to a knee and opened up with his M249 squad automatic weapon. An explosion shook the ground as the man holding the RPG pulled the trigger as he fell, spraying a cloud of rubble fifty feet from the patrol.

Shooter and Collins threw themselves to the ground as bullets whined from a crevice. The Rangers at the gully returned fire at the two men with AK-47s. Stalker loaded his M203 and a thump was heard as the 40mm grenade shot toward the crevice. The explosion killed one man and the other took off running. Storm tracked him through his scoped and squeezed the trigger, dropping him with a head shot. Stalker motioned everyone to cover as things went quiet.

"I'm willing to bet there's a cave up there." Stalker said as he popped a fresh clip into his M4. "Ramon, radio our coordinates in; we're going to take a look." Stalker pulled out his binoculars and checked the area as Escobar called into base. "Storm and Shooter have point, Sap's drag."

"Any idea how many are in there?" Escobar asked.

"Could be none, could be a battalion." Stalker told him.

"So no problem then," Sap said.

"Fine time to joke," Collins growled. He had been rotated into the squad two months earlier and was constantly on edge.

"Rangers lead the way, Sarge." Storm said. "Ready little brother?"

Shooter, the quiet member of the team gave him a thumbs up and they started up the hill. The two had grown up together and had somehow managed to stay together from enlistment to Ranger school. They crept forward, checking high and low. After they had gone forty feet Stalker and Escobar followed, With Sapperstein and Collins waiting to follow them.

"Tommy, there's movement at the entrance." Shooter whispered.

"See it. Looks like they're letting us come to them."

"Maybe there aren't many left."

"When did you become such an optimist?" Tommy Arashikage asked. "And do you have to keep using Tommy? I get a cool name like Storm and you can't use it?"

"You'll live," Shooter told him as they reached the man Storm had killed. "He's got one of our tactical vests."

"Probably from the supplies that disappeared last month. The militia's getting a little brave with their stealing."

Storm crept up the narrow trail to the crevice as Shooter covered him. He peered around the corner and saw nothing. Grinning, he waved Shooter up to him. He pointed to the right and held up two finger, then held up one and motioned left.

The others caught up and Shooter held up a hand stopping them. Storm and Shooter pulled out XM-84 stun grenades and rolled them in, looking away as they went off. Then the two charged forward, Storm shooting the two on his side as Shooter kicked another in the head as he crawled away.

Stalker crept forward as Storm motioned an all clear. "We have a live one" Shooter said, motioning to the one he kicked.

Collins secured the mans arms and legs as the others stood guard.

"More of our tactical vests," Stalker said as Sap picked up a gun. "And it looks like am M16 we supplied the militia. Ramon, call in that we found some of our gear. So what do we have?"

"Two tunnels," Storm told him. "One up, one down."

"Sap and Collins, you two have watch. Ramon and I head up, Storm and Shooter down."

Stalker and Ramon headed into the dark tunnel, which abruptly ended two hundred feet later, with a series of small caves. Stalker looked inside the first as Escobar stood watch.

Storm and Shooter worked their way down the other tunnel. They found some rough steps carved into the rock that went slightly up and around. Slowly they crept up the steps, checking for traps. They peered over the top step when bright lights flared and a machine gun opened up. Storm threw himself behind a pile of rubble as shooter dropped onto the steps.

Ramon turned at the sound of gunfire. The 7.62mm rounds caught him in the chest, knocking him down. Stalker dropped to the floor and sighted in on a young looking insurgent that had been hiding in the last cave. One shot later he was dead.

Storm and Shooter peaked from their hiding spots. The machine gun nest was pretty much some hastily overturned tables and a couple of barrels. A hi-tech mini-gun was being operated by two men, three more covered them with AK-47's. Shooter motioned for Storm's attention and held up five fingers. Storm nodded his confirmation and opened fire, drawing the mini-gun towards him. Shooter stuck his head up and and opened fire with his SAW. Then dropped down as the big gun turned toward him.

Stalker finished checking the last cave and checked on Ramon, rolling him onto his back. Ramon's body armor had done the job, unfortunately two rounds had caught his throat. Stalker said a quick prayer then picked Escobar up.

Shooter fired again without looking as Storm rolled a grenade. The explosion broke a table and allowed Shooter to move to better cover.

Sap nervously listened to the firefight below as movement caught his eye. He turned his gun as Stalker emerged, carrying Escobar.

"What the hell happened in there?" Sap growled.

"Ramon bought it," Stalker told him. "Collins, make sure no one flanks us outside. Sap keep an eye on the tunnel, don't fire until you're certain it's not one of us. I'm going to check on Shooter and Storm."

Stalker worked his way down the tunnel, finding the steps lit by a bright flood light. The sound of the mini-gun caused him to slow down and worm his way up the steps. He peaked over the top step to see Storm and Shooter exchanging fire with four men.

The sound of the grenade leaving Stalker's launcher could barely be heard over the noise of the mini-gun. But somehow Storm and Shooter hugged the ground as it exploded. Then they were up, charging the nest, Storm blasting the only man still moving.

"What kept you?" Storm asked as Shooter drew a knife and flung it between him and Stalker. They turned to see a man fall, clutching the knife buried in his chest.

"Told you there were five."

"No time fore jokes," Stalker said. "Ramon's dead and we need to get this place under control."

It took only a moment to see no one else was left alive. It took only two more to find the trap door. Storm and Shooter took positions on either side of the door as Stalker went to get the others.

"Collins, check out that mini-gun. I've never seen anything like it. The rest of us are going to see where this door leads.

Collins, an expert in weapons and engineering, looked over the gun as they walked away. Searching he found some papers, one of which was a shipment receipt signed by him. "Morons," he muttered. "I told them not to leave this stuff lying around." He looked at another and saw MARS printed across it. He folded them ans slipped them into his pocket.

Sap pulled the door up as the others provided cover. Below them was a dimly lit room, shadows dancing around. Storm and Shooter put down their guns and dropped their packs, drawing pistols and knives. Shooter dropped through the hole and rolled left, followed quickly by Storm who rolled right. Two thuds and a gun shot were followed by an all clear from Storm. Collins came up and followed Stalker down the ladder.

Three men lay dead in front of four cylinders. They were about the size of a large refrigerator and each had a keyboard and timer.

"Ammonia bombs," Collins said. "We heard rumors of stuff like this but these are the first I've seen. The blast would take out maybe half a block and release am ammonia cloud that would cause burns and respiratory problems for the survivors."

"What are these?" Sap asked, pointing to a table across the room.

"Shit!" Collins exhaled.

"What's up?" Stalker asked coming up beside Collins.

"Man portable nuclear warheads."

"Jesus Christ," Sap muttered.

"How the hell did they get their hands on those?" Stalker asked himself.

"Got me," Collins answered anyway. "You'd better radio a team in while I make sure nothing will go off."

"Right," Stalker said. "Shooter has demo training so he'll stay and help. Sap will stand guard up there. Storm and I will head outside and radio HQ.

Five minutes later Collins turned to Shooter. "How long have you known?"

"Since you've started acting so nervous when we come across our own equipment. Plus I saw the papers up there. Pretty low, selling us out to terrorists."

"This big stuff wasn't me."

"But the grenades that killed those kids last week were."

"You can't prove that. I have a kid of my own to support and the black market is guaranteed money. Now it looks like I have some new business opportunities."

"There's plenty of evidence here."

"Fortunately, when these bombs go off there won't be any."

Shooter turned to see all four timers running on the bombs as Collins drew and fired his M9. Shooter twisted and drew his own, firing two shots before a bullet grazed his head and punctured an ammonia tank; venting a cloud of the stuff into Shooters face.

Collins grabbed his wounded hip and limped to the table with the nukes as Shooter collapsed. Sap jumped into the cave to see what was happening and Collins dropped him with a double tap to the head. Then Collins grabbed the nuke case and took off through an escape tunnel he had found earlier.

Storm was there a moment later, grabbing Shooter and pulling him away.

"Bomb" Shooter hoarsely groaned, waving toward the bombs.

Storm checked Sap then picked Shooter up in a fireman's carry and scurried up the ladder. He hit the floor at a run toward the cave entrance.

"Stalker!" He yelled as he reached the first cave. "The bombs are activated!"

"Where's Sap and Collins?" Stalker yelled as he ran after them.

Sap's dead! Couldn't find Collins!"

They reached the gully as the bombs went off; diving behind rocks as debris and dust shot from the cave mouth. Storm covered Shooter as another rock slide thundered toward the gully.

Stalker was the first to make it to his feet and rushed over to the others. Storm was starting to move as he reached them, and Stalker helped dig them from the rubble. It was the first time he had noticed the matching red tattoos, showing through their tattered BDU's, on their right forearms.

Germany, Location Classified July 17, 2002

Shooter lay in the hospital bed; his face, hands and chest bandaged. His doctor had just finished examining him and the nurses had re-bandaged his wounds.

Stalker and Storm walked in, followed by a tall well built man who appeared to be in his early forties. At forty-seven, Colonel Clayton Abernathy still had his dark brown hair and fearsome gaze that had earned him the name Hawk. Nearly thirty years of military service had kept him in excellent shape.

The doctor turned as they entered and quickly saluted when he saw the third visitor.

"How is he, Doctor?" Hawk asked.

"The bandages should come off in two or three days, sir." Doctor Carl Greer replied as he glanced at his chart. "He'll end up with some slight scarring and discoloration. His lungs are fine. The only serious problem is his vocal cords. I'm not sure if he'll ever be able to speak above a whisper, and even that will cause some discomfort."

"Thanks Doc," Hawk said. "When you're finished we need a few moments of privacy."

"we're finished now, Colonel Abernathy." The doctor said, motioning the nurses toward the door. They left and Hawk stepped outside. A moment later he returned with two chairs. He st them down by the bed and shut the door.

"Have a seat, you two." He said motioning for Storm and Stalker to sit.

"Thank you sir'" Stalker said as he and Storm sat down.

Hawk pulled another chair from the table in the room and sat down.

"I guess it's time to explain why you've been confined here the last few weeks. Storm, Stalker I've met with you both individually. Shooter, I'm Colonel Clay Abernathy. Sergeant Wilkinson, your after action report is half the reason we're here. As you can guess, the loss of our best possible lead to possible WMD's would be upsetting to our bosses."

"I can imagine, sir" Stalker said. Sergeant Collins turned out to be part of a black market weapons ring and used the explosion to possibly escape. He also destroyed several high tech weapons that needed to be examined."

"And possibly left with several nuclear warheads." Hawk added.

"Sir, I'll take full responsibility. My men did their best and then some."

"At ease, Sergeant. I said would be upsetting to our bosses. Fortunately I'm the only one who knows your report exists."

"Sir?"

"I've got a job offer for the three of you. One where you'll be able to put your unique abilities to proper use and make a difference."

"What kind of proper use?" Storm asked cautiously.

"That's the other half of why you are here. You're the best of the best. Special Forces and Delta have both been scouting you. You take my offer you'll be better. Then when I consider you ready you'll be the front line on the war on terror. You'll be ghosts. You'll go in and do what's needed."

"Assassins?" Storm asked quietly.

"No," Hawk said. "The job won't always be pretty, but you will never be given an illegal order. You and Shooter will be shipped out to the S.A.S. for training. After that will be survival schools for every conceivable climate. Then some miscellaneous training to fill in the remaining gaps."

"Stalker, you're going through Delta's officer course. Congratulation, with your acceptance you're an officer. After Delta you'll be given tactical and strategic training. Then you'll work directly beneath me."

"We'll never be given an illegal order?" Stalker asked.

"If I give you an illegal order I expect you to shut me down. Just as I would my bosses."

Shooter grabbed a pen and notebook, quickly writing something and handing it to Hawk.

"Outstanding." Hawk said. "What about the two of you?"

"You certain about this, brother?" Storm asked Shooter who gave him a thumbs up. "In that case I'm in."

"In that case," Stalker said, "I'm in also."


	2. Chapter 2

**G.I. Joe: America's Special Missions Force**

Berlin, Germany September 11, 2002

The remembrance was held at the French Embassy. Ambassadors from most of the embassies in town were there with their families. Also present were a small contingent from the U.S. State Department and the German government.

"My dear Anastasia," Ambassador Manuel Desosa said; as he walked up to the striking woman standing alone in the garden. "Has our company become too dull for you?"

She slowly turned, brushing a lone strand of raven black hair from her blue eyes. "Not at all, Manuel." She said, smiling at the Spanish ambassador. "I just needed some fresh air."

"These little get togethers do tend to get stuffy. How is Ambassador De Cobray? I haven't had the opportunity to speak with him yet."

"My father is fine. We were both sorry to hear about your wife."

"Thank you my dear. She really enjoyed your visit that final week."

"Really that was my pleasure." Anastasia De Cobray smiled. "And I needed to administer the final dose of poison to her."

"Excuse me? I must have misheard you." Manuel drunkenly said as a confused look spread across his face.

"No you heard me perfectly, Manuel." Her smile turned sinister as she leaned closer to him. "I'm afraid she was being much to successful at raising funds to help a certain African Nation. One that an organization I'm interested in joining needs to remain in it's current state."

Shock overtook the confusion on his face. He sputtered, trying to process this.

"It's okay, Manuel." She said sweetly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You'll be joining her soon."

She thrust the dagger between his ribs and covered his lips with hers as he started to scream. Slowly she lowered him to the ground.

"I must say, this has been a very enjoyable interlude." She whispered as life began to leave his eyes. "But I'm afraid I need to leave, before the bomb goes off."

She stood and pulled her coat tightly around her. Whistling, she calmly walked around the embassy. A car pulled up as she smiled at a young guard at the gate.

The chauffeur walked around and opened the door for her. As she slid in she allowed her dress to ride up, showing a generous portion of leg to the young guard. She winked as the chauffeur shut the door, blocking out the deep red the guards face had turned.

The guard was still telling the story to his older partner five minutes later. It was the last thought he had as the explosion tore through the embassy.

The Pentagon, September 14, 2002

"I have the followup on the Berlin Bombing, Colonel Abernathy." The thirtyish looking soldier said. He was slightly under six foot and kept his brown hair cut short and his beard neatly trimmed.

"Thanks, Corporal Kibbey." Hawk looked up from his desk. His office in a sub-basement was rather spartan. Nothing non-essential cluttered the space. In fact there was nothing of a personal nature around him. "What's the final count?"

"Sixty-two dead, including seven Americans."

"Do the Germans have any leads?"

"Just one so far. Baroness Anastasia De Cobray, the daughter of an ambassador, left moments before the explosion. They have yet to locate her."

"Keep me informed." Hawk said, sipping his coffee before returning the olive drab cup to his desk. "How are our new recruits?"

"Quite frankly, the S.A.S. Are begging to keep them."

"Politely tell them no, And Stalker?"

"They're saying tactically he's off the scale. The only thing holding him back is a strong sense of morality."

"That's why I picked him. He'll keep us honest,"

"Yes, Sir. Is there anything else?"

"Just leave your report, Breaker. I want you and Dialtone to go over the latest Satellite imagery from the Caribbean. Call me if you find anything slightly odd."

The Caribbean, location classified May 21, 2003

The four men waited as the convoy passed. They all wore camouflaged fatigues and had their faces painted in a camouflaged pattern beneath their boonie hats. All four carried M4 carbines, two with grenade launchers and two with shotgun attachments.

The leader crawled forward, his blue eyes coldly pale behind the face paint. He checked the road and motioned for the others to follow.

They split up and worked their way to the convoy, now stopped with another group of trucks. Occasionally they stopped and planted explosives on a random truck.

Two groups met at the center of the convoys. One made up of rebels from a nearby island. The other group was made up of twenty black clad soldiers. Each wore a medieval style black helmet with a red face mask and visor and were armed with assault rifles. In front of them, speaking with a sixty year old

self appointed general, stood a tall man in a similar black uniform but with a lifelike silver mask.

The rebels were looking in a crate that was unloaded by the soldiers. One pulled out a missile launcher and was inspecting it when another truck pulled up.

A tall, thin man stepped out; dressed in brown fatigues and black helmet similar to the soldiers. The only difference was instead of a face mask he had an eye patch over his left eye. He was flanked by two men in blue uniforms with blue motorcycle style helmets and full face visors.

"Major, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The man in the silver mask said in a deep baritone.

"It's good to see you, too. Destro." Major Sebastian Bludd said in a prissy Australian accent. "I'm afraid this isn't a social call. My employer has information that an American Special forces team is on the island. I have a squad searching for them now."

"I will have to meet this employer of yours, someday." Destro laughed. "Grenadiers, switch to night vision and fan out."

"That's our cue," the commando leader said into his radio as the four men began to withdraw.

"Sir, I have movement," A Grenadier called. "Permission to engage?"

"Granted," Destro said. "Try to bring one back alive."

The night erupted into gunfire as the commandos returned fire, running for cover. One went down before they made it to the tree line.

The rebels charged forward when the trucks exploded in a violent eruption, taking out a large chunk of them and scattering the rest.

"Head for the boat," the commando leader said as the they took off running. They reached a clearing and started up a hill when another of them went down in a hail of bullets.

The two remaining commandos dove for cover and opened up on a group of ten men in blue fatigues. The command leader fired a grenade into them as they took off running. They reached the water as the last commando fell.

The leader turned and fired at the six remaining men in blue. A bullet passed through his leg as he dropped two of them.

The leader fell to the ground, clutching his carbine for a last stand when two of the men went down; the silenced thud of a machine gun the only hint of the cause. The other two started to run when silenced fire caught them from behind.

The last thing the commando saw was two men in black reaching for him.

Location unknown, Two weeks later

"So is someone finally going to tell me where I'm at?" The blond haired, blue eyed man growled from the hospital bed.

"I'm afraid that's need to know, Sergeant." Colonel Abernathy said as he walked into the room. "But I brought you a change of clothes so you can get out of this room."

"Can I ask who you are, Sir?" The man asked as he noticed the rank insignia of the other.

"Colonel Clayton Abernathy. Relax Sergeant Hauser, we're on the same team. And I have a little offer for you. The Guards outside will escort you to my office in twenty minutes."

Twenty-five minutes later

Master Sergeant Conrad Hauser stood at attention in front of Abernathy's desk.

"Have a seat," Hawk said, motioning to the chair by the desk. "I know your leg isn't up to par yet." As he sat down, Sergeant Hauser noticed the two men standing in the shadows behind Hawk. "Mind if I call you Duke?" He asked as he followed the Sergeants gaze. "This is Storm and Shooter. You have them to thank for getting you off that island."

Duke nodded at them. "So are you going to tell me why I'm here, Colonel Hawk?"

"That name won't go away," Hawk laughed. "I'll get to the point. You're here because you and three others from your A-Team were sent on a classified mission to break up an arms deal. Unfortunately classified doesn't mean what it used to. You can relax, Duke. I was fully briefed since my team was also running an operation on there. So do you want to give me your report."

"If it was anyone else I wouldn't, Sir." Duke said. "But I trust your reputation. We landed just after dark and set up positions to wait for the convoy. After it passed we followed them to the meeting site where it met another convoy. This convoy was manned by a platoon of soldiers in uniforms I had never seen before. The leader wore a similar uniform but with a silver mask that looked like it was molded to his face. Everything was going well until a third group arrived. This one was lead by the mercenary Sebastian Bludd. They also wore odd uniforms, I'm sure your men have filled you in on the rest."

"The men in black we think are connected to MARS industries"

"The weapons manufacturers?" Duke asked.

"Yes," Hawk confirmed. "Though we're not certain if the company is aware of the sales to terrorists or not. We do know that Bludd was a former leader of a mercenary group run by MARS."

"Bludd called the masked man Destro. And I think Destro referred to his troops as Grenadiers."

"I'll have that researched, Duke. Hopefully that will give us some leads. Bludd is the one we're currently interested in. We believe he has been hired by a mercenary group in the States."

Hawk took a sip from his coffee. "Now I'll get to why you're here. I have an offer for you. If you walk out of here you can rejoin your unit. Stay and I can guarantee you'll make a difference."

"Can I at least ask what I'm joining?"

"We don't have a name. I work directly for the Pentagon. You'll join a group of agents who work directly for me. And before you ask, I won't force you into anything distasteful. We're not the CIA."

"Can I have time to think about it?"

"Twenty-four hours, after that you'll rejoin your unit."

Duke thought for a moment. "I'm in."

"Excellent, after fifteen years in the Special Forces I don't think you need additional training. But I do want to make you an officer."

"No."

"Excuse Me?"

"I said no." Duke shook his head. "They tell me an officers job is to impel others to take the risks, so that the officer survives to take the blame in case everything goes to hell. With all due respect, Sir... If that's what an officer does, I don't want any part of it."

"So be it, Sergeant. Since you're not field ready I'm putting you in charge of researching Destro."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. Joe. If I did I would have the people behind the movies shot. Seriously, Bruce Willis? And no Scarlett? What's next? A Transformers movie centered on a teen comedy where the annoying parents receive too much screen time and the hot, yet talentless female lead receives too many lines?

** G.I.****JOE: ****America's**** Special**** Mission ****Force**

Chapter 3

Springfield, U.S.A July 4, 2003

The group of twelve men sat in a semi circle as the man in the blue hood stood up.

"Thank you for showing up. Since I first arrived in this town it has been you twelve who have made things clear to me. They call us backwards. They call us crazy. They call us militia. But what are we? Americans! Hard working, tax paying Americans! We are here because we are tired of being taxed out of our homes! We are here because we are tired of having our jobs stolen by foreigners! We are here because we are tired of working all day to give our paychecks to lazy trash who sit at home waiting for a check each month! We are here because we're tired of being told we can't bear arms! Can't worship God in public! Can't speak our minds!

"As I look around me I see patriots. Men who are willing to sacrifice more than our other brothers and sisters in this fine organization. I see men who are ready to take action; and though it will make us sad to do it, it is time we must take America back! No matter the cost! No matter what it takes! They will call us criminals! Traitors! Terrorists! But that is not what we are. The tactics we use will be no different than our forefathers used to claim our independence.

"Innocents may suffer. That is unfortunate. We may be forced to take up arms against our own police force. Our own Military. Organizations each of us has served with pride. That is also unfortunate. It is unfortunate but necessary.

"They will hunt us! They will try to arrest us! To kill us! But are they not slowly killing us now? We all, each of us, have been soldiers or police. We were all willing to make the final sacrifice in the name of our country. But it is clear that killing us is not there aim. Their aim is to kill this great country that we love.

"You all understand what I'm saying. I can see it. And you are all willing to do what it takes to rebuild this land. So I ask you now to put aside all differences and join me and other recruits to form a new organization. One that will act! One that will show the weaklings in Washington that they can't sell us! They can't destroy us!

"Why the cobra you ask? Is it not a symbol of fear? I will tell you why the cobra. It is not a symbol of fear. No more than the rattlesnake that our forefathers displayed with the proud words DON'T TREAD ON ME! I have served in parts of the world where the cobra is king. And it is not feared. It is respected! And that is what we will teach the bureaucrats in Washington. To respect our strength! To respect our bite! COBRA!

U.N. Weapons demonstration April 19, 2006

"As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, the MARS Industries XGG-44 mini-gun has half again the rate of fire as what you are currently using." The Scottish accent droned on as everyone watched the gun blaze away. "This model uses the 5.56mm NATO standard round, but we are working at adapting a 6.8mm round of our own design."

The gun stopped firing and attention turned back to the man giving the demonstration. He was tall and fit, in his late thirties. His suit was expensive and his red-brown hair professionally styled.

"It is also twenty-five pounds lighter than the M-134. Another design we are working on is an even lighter, man portable version." James McCullan XXIV smiled towards the gathered delegates. "Imagine a battlefield where your soldiers can fire thousands of rounds in a moment. That concludes my demonstration. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them after my associates have poured the champagne."

"So what do you think, Lieutenant?" Clayton Abernathy asked.

"That's it, Sir." Lieutenant Lonzo Wilkinson answered. "The exact one we saw in Afghanistan."

Hurlburt Field, Florida Slightly over six months ago

"Shooter, Storm have a seat." General Hawk told them. "In three days time I meet the brass with a recommendation to form a new team. That meeting will live and die based solely on the completion of your mission. You've been preparing three months. It must be carried out to the letter. Any questions?

"No sir" Storm said. "As always you can count on us."

Yeah I know, it's a short, action free chapter. But it leads to next chapter which has adventure, excitement, plot twists, guest stars, cats and dogs living in harmony.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. Joe. No seriously I don't. It's true so don't yell at me. I also don't own Mexico, The U.S. military or anything else mentioned here.

**G.I.****JOE:**** America's ****Special**** Mission**** Force**

Chapter 4

Slightly over six months ago, somewhere over Mexico

The MC-130E Combat Talon began dropping speed in preparation for the jump. In the cargo hold Stalker finished checking the two jumpers gear.

"Alright, you've done this before. It's just warmer here than Siberia. Just remember to check your altimeter. HALO means low opening, but not last minute. Take your positions and get ready for green."

"Captain Wilkinson," came over the intercom. "We are cruising at thirty thousand feet and dropping speed. Doors are opening. Two minutes until location."

"Okay check your oxygen and get your masks in place."

"One minute" from the intercom.

"Good luck guys. Duke will meet you at the rendezvous point."

"Fifteen seconds."

"Ten Seconds."

"Five seconds."

"Jumpers are clear." Stalker reported. "Repeat, jumpers are clear."

"Ten miles to our destination." Storm said, consulting his GPS. He and Shooter were both dressed in black BDUs with a dark blue and gray camouflage pattern. He opened his jump case and pulled out a M-110 rifle and set it aside so he could bury his chute and case.

Shooter stood guard, having already covered his jump gear. He wore a black boonie hat pulled low and carried a H&K G8 assault rifle. He also has an Uzi submachine gun and two .45 pistols. Not to mention various knives.

Storm pulled a black baklava over his head and picked up his rifle. He had a MP5N submachine gun, a Browning Hi Power pistol and a collapsible bow. Which didn't as seem strange as the sword next to it.

"So you take position at the rear and I'll take the front. We'll hole up until nightfall; then figure a way in." Storm told him.

Shooter gave him a thumbs up as he took off at a light jog.

"Two hours until daylight," Shooter signed as Storm caught up.

"Afraid you can't make it?" Stormed joked as Shooter gave him the universal sign and picked up the pace.

Washington D.C. 10:30AM

General Hawk stood at attention in a rather out of the way office in the Pentagon. One of the five men in front of him motioned for him to sit.

"So General Abernathy, I don't think I was prepared for what was in your report." General James Longstreet Flagg said as he opened a folder. "Unfortunately it was disturbing enough to be believable. That's why I called you in before our scheduled meeting." Flagg, the sixth generation of his family to serve in the Army, was sixty years old and still in outstanding shape. "Before we begin I'd like to introduce you to Admiral Everett Colby, General Aaron B. Austin, General Sam Hollingsworth, and I believe you know General Colton."

Admiral Colby, a former fighter pilot and carrier commander, was slightly younger than Flagg. Also in outstanding shape, he still managed to stay qualified as a fighter pilot. General Austin was a Marine. Tough, fit with his hair cut close to his scalp. Air Force General Sam Hollingsworth was slightly out of shape, but still managed to appear dashing in uniform. General Joe Colton was a legend among those in the business. He was one of the most decorated Special Forces soldiers of all time and had served through nine presidents.

"Alright Clay, Flagg has given us an overview but hasn't let us see the file." Colton said to his former protege. "So let's get to it."

"Yes Sir," Hawk said. "Since the events of September 11th, I have been in charge of gathering information on all possible terrorists threats on U.S. soil. Sadly, in the past five years a number of organizations have been flagged as threats to national security. With the help of SOCOM, and the cooperation of the FBI and Homeland Security, I have been able to link the organization to one source. It is my belief that this source has been providing weapons, funding and training to various militias, gangs and militant groups."

"And what is this source?" Colby asked.

"That's where it gets complicated. The trail disappears. A name comes up often, one word; COBRA. What Cobra is, is unknown. It could be an organization, a person, an operational name or a smoke screen.

"We believe they have members who have infiltrated the Midwest as councilmen, law enforcement, judges and businessmen. Again, we have no real evidence. They hide their tracks well.

"We do have evidence linking an unknown organization with the Dreadnok biker gang, the Headman Cartel, and various fringe groups. Also there is a connection with MARS industries and we have evidence that a former MARS employee, Major Sebastian Bludd, has been training a militant force in Texas."

"General Abernathy," General Hollingsworth said," I find it rather disturbing; that if this organization exists, none of our intelligence can pinpoint then."

"Yes Sir," Hawk replied. "What we do have is a similarity in weapons and training among a very diverse group of people throughout the Midwest, Northwest and Texas. We also have seven men who have been arrested with a red cobra tattooed at the base of their neck. They all refuse to talk under all conditions. The disturbing thing is that two of these men were declared dead several years ago.

"There has also been a series of robberies and kidnapping of scientists carried out by men with the same cobra tattoo."

"How extensive is this organization?" Colby asked.

"Unknown, but if the can pull these other groups in they could number in the thousands."

"Jesus," General Austin muttered. "And we're just now learning of this?"

"It's taken this long to put together evidence that they exist."

"And what is your recommendation?" Flagg asked.

"A team of specialists pulled from every branch of the service. To begin with I'd a like sixteen to twenty man field team and an equal number of support personnel."

"And you would command them?" Colton asked.

"In the field I've chosen Captain Lonzo Wilkinson to command. I would also request we be given full access to all U.S. Intelligence agency files, and as many foreign agencies that will cooperate. Also we would need authority to act on U.S. soil."

"That's a lot to ask, General." Admiral Colby said.

"Yes Sir, but if this threat is as big as we believe, it will be necessary."

"Clay, we'll need to discuss this and review your evidence." Colton told him.

"Yes, Sir." Hawk said, standing and saluting.

"Okay, General Abernathy. I want you and Captain Wilkinson to report back to me on Wednesday." Flagg said.

Dallas, TX 3:30PM

The Senator stood at his podium, practicing for the Presidents day speech that would officially announce his intention to run for President of the United States. Around him his staff worked at getting everything ready, and in one corner a couple of trusted journalists. They were being given access for interviews on the agreement that nothing would be aired until after the announcement.

One of his aides walked up to the Senator. "Sir I have a message."

"What is it," the Senator growled.

"The COBRA shall rise!" he screamed as the bomb went off.

Around the country, multiple attacks took place at exactly 3:30. The children of a prominent governor were kidnapped. A weapons convoy in Utah was hijacked. A mayor and his family were murdered. And a suicide bomber walked the center of a major metropolitan mall and detonated.

Mexico, Sunset

The old Stone fort stood nestled on a hillside. It was made up to look like it had been abandoned for centuries, but a careful observer could see the cameras and guard posts. Shooter and Storm met at the west wall.

"I counted twenty-six inside," Storm whispered as Shooter nodded his agreement. "This looks like the best way in."

Shooter nodded his head and held up four fingers.

"Yeah it seems like the guards do four hour shifts. So, half hour before the next switch?"

Again Shooter nodded as he laid back against a tree and pulled his hat low.

So I guess I get first watch," Storm muttered...

"Everything's quiet," Storm whispered as Shooter woke up. "I was thinking about the name Storm Shadow, It has an exciting and mysterious ring to it."

Shooter looked at him a moment before signing; "It's your actual name."

"That's the beauty of it. You gaijin are too dumb to connect it."

Shooter shook his head and pointed to his watch.

"I guess it is time," Storm smiled. "But I still think it's a great name."

They left their packs and rifles hidden and crawled to the wall. Their entrance was a hole in the wall where it had collapsed long ago. Shooter bypassed a motion sensor as Storm disabled a trip wire. Two guards walked pass as they wormed their way through the hole. Storm and Shooter followed the two around a dark corner. Storm pulled a knife and slid a hand over a guard's mouth as he plunged the knife through his jugular. At the same time, Shooter wrapped a garrotte around the other guards throat. The thin wire slicing through his neck, killing him in nearly an instant. They drug the two to a rubble pile and hid the bodies, both noticing the same blue uniforms they had last encountered in the Caribbean.

Storm found a ladder heading below and crawled down head first. Shooter followed as Storm motioned the all clear. They worked their way through the dimly lit corridor, dodging several guards, until they came to two doors that stood directly across from each other. They both took a door, pulling out tube cameras and slipping them under the doors.

Shooter's door was a radio room that was currently unoccupied. He opened it and slipped inside to check it. He quickly disabled the radio and started to leave. He stopped at the door and placed a small explosive and timer on the door frame, then left.

Storm motioned to his door. "This is the armory," he whispered. "Nobody's home. I'll stand guard since you have the explosives."

Shooter opened the door and slid inside. A light flashed on, temporarily blinding him. As his vision cleared he saw six men with guns pointed at him.

"Please place your weapons on the floor," the lead man said in a thoroughly average voice. He was a bald man of average height and build, the only distinguishing thing about him was that he wore black leather pants and a black vest.

"I'd listen to the man, brother." Storm said as he came up behind Shooter with his gun drawn.

Gasp! Tragedy! Betrayal! Horrible fashion sense! I like to think it's all very Shakespearean. Up next Zartan, sword play, oh and Snake Eyes makes an appearance finally.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. Joe. No money exchanged hands. Blah, blah, yada, yada.

**G.I.****JOE:**** America's**** Special ****Mission**** Force**

Chapter 5

Somewhere in Mexico, six months ago

"I'd listen to the man, brother." Storm said as he came up behind Shooter, gun drawn.

Shooter weighed his options. In front of him were six men. One a bald man in black leather with a .357 magnum revolver pointed at Shooter. The other five, wearing blue fatigues with blue helmets and full face visors, held P90 submachine guns on him. Behind him, his best friend holding a MP5N submachine gun at his back. Playing the odds he placed his uzi on the floor.

"So Mr. Arashikage, I see our initial payments were received." The bald man laughed.

"They were adequate, Zartan." Storm said. "And call me Storm Shadow."

"This would be Shooter?" Zartan smiled, his brown eyes glowing. "You're a real legend in our little circle. Pity, but I don't think you are for sale."

Shooter glared at Storm Shadow as the men in blue grabbed his arms. Storm Shadow quickly disarmed him, placing his pistils and knives on a table.

"Don't give me that look," Storm Shadow snarled. "My lifestyle isn't cheap. And let's face it, America isn't what it used to be."

Shooter still glared as the men tied his hands above his head with a long rope. They threw the rope through a hook screwed into a support beam and pulled until just his toes touched the floor, then tied the rope off to another beam.

"Sorry Shooter, but I'd be wasting my time asking you to join me."

"Your helicopter should be here about now, 'Storm Shadow'." Zartan said as he smiled good naturedly at Shooter.

"Well, I guess I won't be seeing you again. Brother." Storm Shadow said as he walked to the door.

"Tommy," a low raspy voice said. Storm Shadow turned and looked at Shooter, who had a cold smile on his face. "Don't bet on it."

Storm Shadow stared a moment, then left.

"So let's see what we have hear, Mr. Shooter. No name, no rank nothing to suggest you exist." Zartan said, grabbing Shooter's chin and examining his face. Shooter's face was dark with a pale patch around his left eye and and the right side of his mouth. A scar ran from that left eye and slashed across his forehead.

"According to our Storm Shadow, you can barely speak." Zartan laughed, grabbing a knife that had been heating in a fire pit. "That's fine, I'm more interested in your screams."

Six minutes later and one of the men was dead. Zartan had killed him after he had vomited.

"Impressive, not even a whimper." Zartan said admiring his work. Shooters face was a mask of blood and burnt flesh. "Hell, you haven't even stopped glaring. I guess your wondering why your eyes are intact? I've found that once a victim has time to think about what they can lose they become much more cooperative."

Zartan walked to the door. "Vipers, soften him up. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Another six minutes and Shooters shirt was cut off and one of the Vipers were using him as a punching bag. His next punch was coming when the explosion blew the door from the other room into their room.

Everyone turned as Shooter drew his legs up and wrapped them around the head of the viper. Using him as leverage to swing off the hook, at the same time snapping the viper's neck. He grabbed a knife from the table and cut the rope, though still leaving his hands tied. He flung the knife into the throat of a viper raising his gun, then charged the other three. He was in the middle of them in a heartbeat, moving like a blur. The sound of bone splintering from a kick was the only sign of what floored one man. The second went down with a double ax handle blow to the throat. The third turned to flee and was slammed head first into the wall.

Shooter grabbed a knife from one of the men and cut the ropes around his wrists. He picked up a P90 and headed for the door. Confusion reigned outside as he ran for the ladder. A viper stepped in front of him and he let loose a burst of 5.7mm rounds, stitching the blue shirt and Shooter was up the ladder.

Then he ran for the hole in the wall, swinging the gun into the throat of a viper, and slid through; barely slowing down. Search lights came on as the men in the fort started to regroup. Shooter stopped where he and Storm had left their gear. He threw his pack on and grabbed the G8 and M-110. Taking a frag grenade he pulled the pin and lodged it in Storm's pack as a surprise for the vipers. Then he took off at a run.

Zartan had three groups of five vipers heading out the gate. One man in each group had a dog, all were armed with FN2000 assault rifles. The groups split up, traveling the perimeter of the fort, letting the dogs find a trail. One group found the hole, the dog quickly drawing them to Storm's pack. A viper picked it up and the grenade went off, killing the dog and two vipers and wounding another. The other two groups rushed for the explosion.

Shooter heard the grenade and picked up his pace, running hard, covering another mile. He heard the dogs and stopped a moment to get a general idea of where they were. He hugged the ground as the helicopter flew overhead toward the fort.

He took off as the helicopter landed at the fort, covering two miles until he found a hill with an over hang and covered in brush. The dogs sounded a little farther back but he was sure they had his scent.

Shooter set the guns down and opened up his pack. Gingerly, he explored his face; feeling some of the wounds still bleeding. Not having time to clean them, he wrapped his face with gauze. He checked his chest and could tell he had a few broken ribs. Shooter grabbed an olive green t-shirt from his pack and pulled it on. Then he grabbed the M-110 and set up to wait.

Ten minutes later the helicopter had passed over and was several miles away. Shooter was laying on his belly, the muzzle of the M-110 settled on his pack as he peered down the scope.

The M-110 is a 7.62mm semi-automatic sniper rifle that looks a lot like a M16. This one was fitted with a suppressor and accurate at over eight hundred yards.

The half moon had risen in the last hour, giving off enough light to make out the shapes of his pursuers. His first shot took out the lead dog, followed quickly by the handler. He swept left and found the last dog. Two more shots and the dog and handler were down.

Three shots later and two more vipers were dead, the rest had figured out something was wrong and found cover. Shooter quickly pulled on his pack and grabbed the guns, and took off as he saw the helicopter move toward him. He jumped into a gully and ran, hunched over for cover.

Storm Shadow and Zartan listened to the call for help from the search teams. The helicopter had been called back after the escape and had picked up Zartan and two vipers. Zartan motion for the pilot to head for the search teams.

As they passed over the vipers, Storm Shadow pointed toward the spot he thought was the likely sniper nest. The pilot crisscrossed the area with a search light as the remaining vipers started moving in.

Shooter had found a small crevice and squeezed in. He took of his pack and pulled out a small satchel. Taking the clip from the M-110, he emptied the bullets into the satchel; since they were the same as his G8 used. Next he dismantled the M-110 and took a rock to the components, rendering it useless.

He pulled a map and compass from his pack. After estimating his location, he plotted the quickest route to the secondary extraction site. Next he quickly downed a ration bar and a few sips of water; then stuffed the canteen, more rations, map and a couple of grenades into the satchel. He grabbed two spare knives and stuck them into empty sheathes.

Shooter grabbed the satchel and the G8 and started running, this time at an easy pace, staying in cover as much as possible. With luck he would reach the river before sunrise.

Zartan growled as the helicopter took off. Shooter had ruined this operation. The fort had been the drop off and pick up point for drugs between the Headman and Dreadnoks. Now they had to close up shop. There was no way the Mexican government could ignore this much activity. Storm Shadow had guessed Shooter's most likely destination and they had picked up the search teams and dropped five of them and Storm Shadow at the river, then took off to continue the search.

Storm Shadow waited patiently in a tree a hundred feet away from the ambush site. He figured the viper's had no chance, but would at least distract Shooter.

The five vipers had taken cover behind rocks. Spread out so the river was at their backs and every angle was covered. They were nervous after seeing how easily the others had been killed, but confident in their positioning. One viper blinked and thought he saw movement. He saw it a second time and opened fire, the others quickly joining him. A moment later their guns were empty.

The grenade went off between them, killing two and mangling the rest. Shooter closed in and shot the survivors. Unfortunately the helicopter had returned and the search light found him as he raised his gun.

Storm Shadow appeared from nowhere, sword in hand. He slashed it across Shooter's chest. Shooter's rifle fell from his hands as he dropped into the raging river.

Zartan and two vipers dropped from the helicopter and ran up, searching the water.

"Did you finish him?" Zartan asked as he turned to Storm Shadow.

"I don't fail." Storm Shadow replied as he finished wiping blood from his sword.

Washington D.C., Two days later

Hawk and Stalker stood in the office of General Flagg. They had just finished watching the confiscated footage of the Senators death.

"This is the only footage that survived the blast," Flagg told them. "Cobra is real. The Senators stance on border security and crime made him a target."

"So, do we have the go ahead?" Hawk asked.

"As of this moment, Special Missions Force Gamma is in business. General Colton has requested you use the code name of his Special Forces team in Vietnam; G.I, Joe." Flagg stood and walked over to Hawk. "How long until you're operational?"

"With recruiting, equipping and training; I'd say no more than six months."

"Then get to it. This has got to be stopped."

Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, one week later

"So where are we going, Sir?" Stalker asked as he drove the humvee along a winding road.

"Home," Hawk told him. "At least it will be."

They left the road and continued onto a well camouflaged side road. Three miles later they passed a dead end sign.

"Keep going," Hawk said as Stalker drove past the sign.

"Sir, there isn't nothing but mountain ahead."

Which was pretty accurate as the road ended abruptly in a rock slide halfway up the mountain. Hawk thumbed a code on the dashboard and the road under the rock slide lifted up, revealing a ramp large enough for a tank.

Stalker drove onward as the ramp closed behind them and lights came on, revealing a room big enough for four tractor and trailers. Then the floor started to move.

"Elevator?" Stalker asked.

"Yes. Welcome to the Pit. This was built in the eighties as part of the Star Wars program. Then mothballed when that was canceled. It was kept up as a Presidential emergency bunker but never used. As of yesterday, there is no record of its existence."

The elevator stopped in a huge motor pool. It was dusty, but wouldn't be tough to clear.

"How big is this place?"

"Six levels. The first is the motor pool, storage, elevator and minor exits. The second is the hanger, communications and offices. Third is the training area, staging area and more storage. Level four is living quarter, recreational area and armory. Level five is medical, security and research. The sixth is generators, utilities, computer banks and records."

"Wow."

"It is impressive. Breaker, Mainframe and Dial Tone will be here this afternoon. Duke should arrive from his errand tonight and you two can go through our roster choices. I have to fly to California.

San Diego Veteran's Hospital, later that night

Hawk walked into the room, noticing the patient with his face and chest bandaged. He handed the man a pen and note pad.

"How bad is it?" Hawk asked.

The patient wrote quickly.

Doc says reconstructive surgery. Three to four months. Everything else is healing fine.

"The mission?"

Completed. Zartan confirmed. Tommy's loyalties confirmed. Drug operation set back.

"So Zartan is involved. Good work, now you get some rest."

I'm fine.

"Fine? You were tortured, beat, shot and cut. Ran who knows how far. Swam through rapids and then walked twenty miles for Duke to pick you up. You're not fine."

I'll live.

"Actually you won't. As far as the world is concerned; Shooter died in Mexico."

I'm not quitting.

"I understand that. We got permission to put the team together. You want in?" Hawk smiled at the thumbs up. "Alright then. You're going to need a new name."

Don't let Stalker choose.

"Actually I have one in mind. Duke says you're a bad roll of the dice for the bad guys. So how about Snake Eyes?"

Snake Eyes shrugged his shoulders and gestured good enough.

"Welcome to G.I. Joe, Snake Eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own G.I. Joe. But Christmas is coming up so maybe it will be in my stocking.

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force**

Chapter 6

Somewhere in the Rockies, now

The Army convoy rumbled down the winding road, shaking the ground as it passed. It slowed at a sharp turn and sped on; except the final five vehicles. Three M1078 trucks book-ended by two humvees turned left onto a very well concealed road and rumbled forward.

The vehicles slowed as they reached a dead end sign, but continued on. The road in front of them raised and the vehicles drove down the revealed ramp. It was pitch black as the trucks came to a halt, but everyone could feel the elevator going down. Light again and the trucks pulled forward and parked. Soldiers began climbing out, six to a truck.

"Alright people!" Duke shouted, as he exited the lead humvee, in a voice only a first sergeant could muster. "The staging area is to your right! Leave your things and get in formation!"

They assembled, eighteen from the trucks and the five drivers wearing the uniforms of all four branches of service, before a raised platform. General Hawk stood before them. Everyone came to attention as they saw the stars on his gray camouflaged BDU's. Duke saluted as he walked on the platform, then took a position beside the five men behind Hawk.

"At ease, everyone. Welcome to the Pit. You are here because you are the best of the best. And you have proven it over the past four weeks of assessment. I am General Hawk. You have already met Duke." Hawk said motioning to the blond sergeant. "He's first shirt of this outfit. He answers to me only. You all have been around long enough to know how things work. Behind me is my x-o, Major Stalker and third in command Captain Ace. Along with warrant officer's Flint and Wild Bill and company sergeant Zap.

"Like yourselves they come from every part of the military. They have put branch loyalty behind them to serve their country. I expect the same from you. Look at the people beside you. These are your unit, your family. You will respect them as peers. You will forget that you are Army or Navy; Air Force or Marine. Today you are G.I. Joe. Stalker and Ace will split you up and get you squared away. Enjoy your day, work starts tomorrow."

Hawk walked off the platform as Stalker, Duke and Flint stepped forward.

"I'm Stalker." The tall black man wearing a black beret and the same gray camouflaged BDU's Hawk and the other five wore. "I'll be in charge of the field team. As of right now you will be known only by your code names. The field team will be split in two, one ready team and one standby team. This will be rotated every fourteen days. The ready team only gets PT and light training. The standby team will train and help out with security.

"Shipwreck, Gung Ho, Beach Head and Recondo; you are the senior enlisted. Follow Duke and he'll get you stowed away and begin prepping. Torpedo, Snow Job, Spirit and Dusty; you're our team specialists. Follow Flint. Leatherneck, Ripcord, Rock N Roll and Roadblock; you're weapon specialists. Grab your gear and follow me."

Ace, Wild Bill and Zap took the rest.

"You heard Stalker, you know what we expect." Ace said. He was an Air Force vet that had flown everything from F-15s to transports. His last five years had been spent flying special operations. He was average in height and lanky, with slightly longer than regulation brown hair. "Mutt and Barbecue are security. Clutch and Crankcase are supply and transportation. Follow Wild Bill, he'll get you taken care of. Flash, Short-Fuze, Airtight and Trip Wire, you're engineers. Zap will take you. Scarlett, Psyche-Out and Lady Jaye; you're with me since I handle intelligence."

"What's the word on Doc and Snake Eyes?" Hawk asked as he walked into the communications room.

"They'll be here tomorrow morning, Sir." The short, mousy woman answered. She wore gray BDUs and wore her black hair short. "Wild Bill is scheduled to pick them up at 0700."

"Thanks Dial-Tone. What's the final word on Snake Eyes?"

"Doc says that it's mostly been successful. They rebuilt his nose and cheeks. The scarring is supposed to be intense, though."

"I'll have a package for Bill to take Snake Eyes. Make sure he picks it up before he leaves. And tell Snake to see me as soon as he arrives."

Somewhere in the Bahamas.

"Storm Shadow, I have an assignment for you." He said as Cobra's newest employee entered. He stared down from his throne like chair, examining Storm. Storm Shadow wore a dull white and gray uniform, loose pants stuffed into high boots and tight white shirt. Two ninja-to were on his back and a kusari-gama (chain and sickle) wrapped around his waist, the sickle end in a quick draw sheath on his lower back. Hanging loose at his neck were a hood and lower face mask.

"The Baroness is leaving for Venezuela this evening. I wish you to accompany her. While there, I want you to discuss with our friend the Headman why he needs to continue doing business with us. Kill his personal guards and relay that I look forward to continuing our partnership."

"Yes Commander," Storm Shadow said. Gazing up at the man sitting on a large throne shaped like a striking cobra and placed on a raised platform. His bright blue uniform resembled a World War II German officers, complete with flared pants and high boots. A red stripe ran down each leg and a red cobra symbol was placed over his heart. A blue helmet and polished metal face mask completed a sinister look.

"Good, I know I can depend on you. And make sure the Baroness keeps her temper in check. This is a very delicate negotiation I'm sending her on."

The Pit,

Scarlett, Lady Jaye and Psyche-Out Followed Ace to a set of elevators. Each had a backpack and duffel bag. The set of four elevators sat in a close wall of the cavernous room.

"This is the first level." Ace said as they waited for the doors to open. "As you can see it houses the motor pool and cargo elevator. There is also a large storage area at the other end with it's own elevator to the lower levels." The doors opened and the four stepped inside. "Also we have three alternative exits from this level."

The elevator ran silent as they headed down.

"Coming up is level two," Ace continued as he stopped the elevator. The doors opened into a more massive cavern than the first. "This houses and main communications area. Along with offices and meeting room. The intelligence offices are next to the comm room. Personnel are down the hall. Lady Jaye, you'll be splitting time there. I believe Spirit will be assisting you. The hanger is also on this level. So far we have four blackhawks, two MH-6's and a MH-47 Chinook. Me and Wild Bill are the primary pilots, with Flint and Zap also qualified."

"Won't it be a little suspicious? With all the air and ground traffic suddenly appearing in the middle of nowhere." Psyche-Out asked. He was a short and stocky blond with intelligent brown eyes.

"That's the beauty of this location," Ace told him as he started the elevator. "There are five military bases, two Air Force and one for each of the other branches. This is all one huge restricted zone. The road leading in is used by each base. All air traffic leaving here will be listed as leaving one of the others. We also have a MC-130 Combat Spear sitting ready at one of the Air Force bases."

"Next up we have the staging area." Ace continued as the doors opened to a wide open room. "This is the biggest level and we placed the training area here. We have rooms to simulate different environments and mock ups for different scenarios. Also three PT courses, six firing ranges, an exercise room, a hand to hand room and two big pools for underwater training. Scarlett will be starting a hand to hand refresher course down here."

"So I take it we all have more than one job," Scarlett said. She was tall and fit with green eyes and striking red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Uh huh. This outfit is classified so high that we can't have actual support personnel. The hard part was

was finding a heavy machine-gunner who was also a gourmet chef." Ace started the elevator. "The levels get smaller now. Coming up we have the living quarters, recreational area and armory. The recreational area has an olympic swimming pool, a gym, basketball courts, several tv rooms, a track, a games room, a movie theater and a room for pick up sports."

The doors opened and Dial-Tone walked up as Ace continued.

"The armory has it's own elevator up to the staging area and firing ranges. Directly below us is the medical section; along with security and research. Psyche-Out will be helping Doc and Lifeline out down there. Level six has our generators, utilities and computer banks. I'll escort Psych-Out to his room, He'll be sharing with Torpedo. You ladies get the luxury of single rooms, at least until this place starts to fill up."

"This is Dial-Tone, she's one of our resident nerds and will show you your rooms." Ace said as he and Psyche-Out left.

"If you'll follow me." Dial-Tone motioned the two women. "We get south wing since it's the smallest."

"How many women are here?" Lady Jaye asked. She was about 5'5" with wild shoulder length brown hair.

"Just us. Truthfully; I was worried it would be just me. Your bosses didn't want to let you go."

"I thought I was going to be the FBI's liaison here at first." Scarlett said. "I was surprised when the reenlistment papers were given to me."

"I was glad to get out of where I was. The general there didn't believe in a glass ceiling, his was concrete." Lady Jaye said.

"You don't have to worry about that with Hawk. He's more interested in getting the job done. Here we are. Our rooms are right in a row. I tried to place us across from the showers. I took the third room, Scarlett gets the first and Jaye the second. Oh and since we're not technically on duty, I'm Jackie."

"Allison."

"Shana"

"It was nice to meet you. I'll let you get situated."

San Diego Veteran's Hospital

Alone, he thought; sitting lotus style on the floor. The last six months that had been the one idea stubbornly clinging to him. For the first time in his life he was truly alone. Memories rush back to him as he struggles to calm himself.

Seven years old, his parents and twin sister killed in the car wreck that gave him his first scar. Not knowing what would happen to him with no family left. Then the old Japanese man coming for him. Explaining that his father and the old man's brother had been like brothers.

Going to live with the old man and his nephew. The son of his father's friend. Also an orphan. Finding a second family. Learning how to fight. More importantly, learning when to fight. Learning the truth about the old man. Ten years of happiness. Then an argument overheard. He and Tommy rushing to the noise. Seeing the old man and another old man exchanging blows. A knife pulled and the old man falls. Without thinking they charge. Tommy disarms the other; but it is his kick that splinters bone and drives it into the killers heart, The old man telling them to run, to return in an hour. They argue but he is unflinching. They know not to refuse.

Fear returns. Not knowing how to get out of this. They return home, to find it in flames. An accident it is determined. The will read. Both receiving the box marked with the hexagram of the I Ching the old man was so fond of. Inside a birthright. And a request, not to seek vengeance. Not to let there lives be destroyed by the stubbornness of two old men.

Two brothers getting the same hexagram tattooed as a reminder. Joining the Army together. Then Ranger School; Afghanistan, and finally General Hawk. Two brothers whose skills complimented each other. Now separated by greed and stupidity.

He looks down at the tattoo on his wrist as Doc comes in.

"Wild Bill is here," Doc said handing Snake Eyes a case. "Hawk sent this for you. I'll let you get dressed."

He opens the case, pulls out the black garments. Holding the last piece, the black mask and visor. Thinking that Hawk and the old man would have appreciated each other. He stares at the tattoo, thinking of the first time the hexagram was explained.

"Meaning child? Like everything it has many meanings. The lower part fire. A reminder that the low path can get you burned. The upper part water. Water over fire. But also beware the high path because you could drown. Both paths can lead to misfortune without preparation. Remember...

"Thus the superior man

"Takes thought of misfortune

"And arms himself against it in advance"

Next chapter: An actual plot! Finally!

Notes: I'm not an ancient Chinese philosopher. So my explanation on the I Ching may be off. If any of you are ancient philosophers of any origin and can explain it better let me know. I would love to learn.

This was a quick summary to explain Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow. Storm's motivation is deeper than greed but you'll have to wait.

Ninja, the sub-species of Joe that ruined the original comic after the first hundred issues. I'll admit that ninjas are fun, but according to the comic about a third of the Earth's population were ninja with super powers. I'm not guaranteeing Snake and Storm are ninjas since ninjas no longer exist; probably. But if they are they'll be historical ninjas and not super human comic/movie ninjas. That's why I mentioned them getting additional training in the first chapter.

On the subject of the historical ninja. They were trained for stealth and speed. They were no match against samurai in one on one combat. Up against modern Special Operations troops I wouldn't give the ninjas a very good chance.

Staying on subject, you will not see a katana on a mission. They were designed as a slashing weapon for duels or warfare on an open battlefield. It's to big for the modern battlefield. The ninja-to, on the other hand, is perfect for today's close quarters combat. It's a short, stabbing weapon that was meant to be used in doors.

Finally the gray BDUs. I stole them from the movie. Think of the uniform everyone in the Pit wore. Unlike the Joes other uniforms, I actually liked those.


	7. Chapter 7

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force**

Chapter 7

The Pit, briefing room Alpha

The large oval table sat in front of a large computer screen. Breaker sat at an array of computers as Hawk stood by the screen. Sitting around the table were Stalker, Duke, Scarlett, Ace, Flint, Psyche-Out, Lady Jaye, Zap and Gung Ho.

"Let me begin by making introductions," Hawk said. "I'm sure you remember Stalker, Duke, Ace, Flint and Zap. I'll start with Scarlett. College graduate at eighteen, Joined the Marines right after. She was the first woman to make it through Marine sniper school and the only out of forty candidates to make it through an experimental S.A.S. training program. Then she became an intelligence analyst for the FBI and a hand to hand instructor at Quantico.

"Lady Jaye has her graduate degree from Trinity College in Dublin. She was a member of the 82cd Airborne and has been through Ranger school. She's an accomplished actress and linguist, her last job was as a teacher at the Defense Language Institute.

"Psyche-Out got his psychology degree from U.C. Berkeley. He's an expert in sound wave behavior modification and comes to us from the 4th Psychological Operations Group.

"Next is Gung Ho. He's a twenty year Marine. Former Corps boxing champ and hand to hand instructor. He's taught at recondo and ordinance schools and has been a drill instructor at Parris Island. Most recently he was with Marine Force Recon.

"And at the computers is Breaker. Along with Mainframe and Dial-Tone they run our communications.

"Today I'm going to give you a quick overview of why you're all here. We believe that the random acts of terror this country has faced the last six months can be tied to one group. A group we believe is called Cobra. We believe they have ties to every major terrorist group in the world as well as extremist groups here in the States. Who they are and what their goals are is unknown. The only certainty we have is their connection to certain individuals."

"First is Major Sebastian Bludd," Hawk said as a picture of a middle aged man with an eye patch and neatly trimmed mustache appeared on the screen. "He's formerly a member of the Australian S.A.S. who decided being a mercenary paid better. His last known employee was MARS industries, where he ran a small mercenary army until political pressure forced them to disband the unit, though there are rumors it still exists and is run by someone named Destro. Bludd's last known location was in Texas where he was training a militia group. The compound there was..."

Hawk stopped as the door opened and Snake Eyes entered. He was dressed all in black; from his fatigue pants tucked into jump boots to his commando sweater and gloves. The most striking thing was the pullover mask and visor that covered his face. He saluted as he entered.

"Welcome back Snake Eyes. Take a seat," Hawk said. Snake sat next to Stalker at Hawks invitation. "As I was saying. The FBI raided the compound and found it empty and stripped clean."

"Next is Baroness Anastasia De Cobray." Hawk continued as a picture of a beautiful and aristocratic woman with striking black hair came on screen. "She's the classic story of the bored rich kid who decided that democracy isn't fair. She fell in with several socialist organizations in college and graduated from political rallies to the 2002 embassy bombing in Germany. Since then she has been linked to several high profile incidents. The only link we have with her and Cobra is that the few perpetrators that were killed or arrested in those incidents had a cobra tattooed on the back of their necks. This tends to be a calling card of the organization. Her current whereabouts are unknown."

"Christian Zartan is next." an old blurry photograph came up and Hawk happily noted that Snake Eyes gave no reaction. "Very little is known about him. We think he is American. We think he worked for the CIA back in the eighties. What we do know is that he's a master of disguise and infiltration. He's prone to violent outbursts and has a sadistic streak."

"We think he's the founder of the Dreadnok motorcycle gang. Which he uses as a training ground for his personal body guards."

"Finally we have Storm Shadow" Hawk saw a barely noticeable tremble from Snake Eyes as the picture came up, as well as frowns from Stalker and Duke. "His name is Thomas Arashikage and he used to be one of us before he was turned and became responsible for the death of one of my first recruits. He's an expert in unarmed combat, bladed weapons, silent weapons, infiltration and assassination. He's also an expert marksman and has been trained in demolitions. He's extremely dangerous so don't take any chances with him."

"In the folders in front of you is everything we know about Cobra. Field leaders," Hawk said as he looked from Stalker to Duke to Flint to Gung Ho. "Bring your team up to date and make sure they memorize every face in there. Intel, I want you working on every angle you can think of."

Caracas, Venezuela

The Bombardier Global Express XRS business jet taxied into the private hanger. Two men in dark gray suits with crimson red ties pulled the door down to reveal the built in steps as two more rolled a short ramp up. Another two men, dressed the same as the others, exited and the six stood at attention; three on each side of the ramp. A Japanese man dressed in a well tailored white suit came next, followed by a woman who's expensive black business suit was only slightly less dark than her long hair. Two more men in gray suits and red ties followed.

"The cars are ready, Baroness." One of the men said as she reached the floor.

"Excellent," She smiled at the man. "How many men are on site?"

"Two other Guardsmen and a platoon of Vipers. We have two flanking vehicles to protect your limo."

"Fine. You will take Storm Shadow and myself to the estate first. Has the package been delivered?"

"Yes, Baroness. It but awaits your order."

The Pit

"Excuse me," Scarlett said to Duke as they left the meeting. "Are you the same Duke who won the CMH in Afghanistan a few years ago?"

"My entire team deserved it." Duke nodded. "But my state's Senator heard about the op and pushed for it."

"I just wanted to thank you. My father was one of the men you rescued."

"Patrick O'Hara? He was my squad leader out of basic. How is he."

"He lost his left leg, but is getting along fine. In fact he's working on adapting karate for amputees." She said, then added at his confused look; "He and my brothers run a dojo."

"Is he who taught you?"

"Yep. I received my first black belt at fifteen. You study karate?"

"Just what they taught me in the Army. And a few things I picked up." Duke said as Gung Ho came up. "Snake Eyes has taught me a few things."

"Who is Snake Eyes?" Gung Ho asked in a thick accent. He was slightly above average in height with a neatly trimmed mustache and hid bald head covered by a Marine utility cap. "I saw his name on the field roster."

"He wasn't here when we arrived." Scarlett added.

"The best," Duke said fondly. "Just hope he's out there with us; he always makes it back."

"What's with the mask?" Scarlett asked.

"He got hurt down field. The scarring was supposed to be intensive."

"What's he do?" Gung Ho asked. "His file was a complete blank."

"Everything about him's classified." Stalker broke in as he came up. "We just assume he can do anything. Duke and I are just glad he's on our side."

The conference room

"Glad to see you back here, Snake." Hawk said once the two were alone. "Sorry that infection kept you down longer than expected."

Snake nodded and waved his arm inquisitively.

"Nice isn't it. Our roster was expanded to thirty-six men with room to grow. And you won't believe the funding. So when do you think you'll be mission ready?"

Now, he gestured.

"That's good. We had delays getting everything together and you, Duke and Stalker are the only ones ready to be in the field. I'm estimating two weeks before everyone else gets used to working together. You've read everyone's profile?"

Snake Eyes nodded before hesitating.

"What is it?" Hawk asked as Snake gestured.

"Storm? You understand I had to list him. And warn everyone. The Tommy situation is too dangerous not to."

Snake nodded, sadly.

"It was his choice, Snake Eyes. You're not to blame for what happens to him."

"And I trust I don't have to tell you not to go easy on him if you meet."

No, he gestured.

"Good. We had your personal belongings moved to your new room. Stalker set it up to match your old one. I do have bad news for you. We're not supporting 9mm weapons here since I see us running into bad guys wearing body armor. And I know your preference for the Uzi. But I do have something you may like."

Hawk picked up a case and set it on the table. He opened it and motioned Snake Eyes over. In the Case were two guns that looked like futuristic Uzis.

"These are MP7A1s. Seal Team Six and Delta have been using them for awhile. They're about four pounds lighter and use 4.6mm ammo. It's a smaller round but has penetration close to a 5.56. They can be fired one handed or have a fold down grip that gives it better stabilization than the Uzi. I figured it was similar enough that you'd adjust quickly."

Caracas,

The estate was a private mansion surrounded by an imposing wall. At the main gate were four men in blue suits, though obviously armed. Two others watched the rear gate. Besides the normal cameras and motion sensors were several two man viper patrols, in full uniform and armed with FN2000 assault rifles.

Inside it was obvious that the owner was immensely wealthy. The beauty was lost on the two people who walked through the door.

"Tonight we are meeting with McCullen at his castle," the Baroness told Storm Shadow. "It is hoped that he will be willing to help re-arm our forces. Afterwords I am told you have business of you're own to take care of?"

"Just a small thing for the Commander." Storm Shadow said, not letting the smile at the Baroness' discomfort show. She was still upset at Storm's rapid rise to the Commander's side.

"We meet with the President tomorrow morning. I trust your errand will be finished by then."

"Not a problem, Baroness. Like I said. A small thing."

The Pit,

The sixteen men of the field teams stood in a half circle around the training mat. Scarlett stood in the center wearing the same gray camouflaged BDUs the others wore.

"Welcome to hand to hand familiarization." Duke said from his end next to Stalker, Gung Ho and Snake Eyes. "Scarlett will be your instructor." He looked toward the barely perceptible snicker. "I see Dusty is volunteering to help with the demonstration."

"You don't have a problem with that, Sergeant?" Stalker smirked at the look on Dusty's face.

"No, sir." Dusty hesitated.

"Are you sure?" Duke added. "Maybe you're afraid of hitting an officer. It's okay Dusty, the Lieutenant won't press charges."

"Sir, I don't want to hurt a woman."

"Thirty says Scarlett makes an example of him," Gung Ho whispered to Stalker. "She was an instructor when I was a DI at Parris Island."

"I'm sure her insurance is paid up," Stalker said. "So get on the mat."

"Yes Sir!"

Dusty approached Scarlett who stood casually with her arms crossed.

"You take the lead, Sergeant." Scarlett said with a smirk. "Attack me."

Dusty moved forward and swung an obviously fake punch. And promptly hit the mat as he was struck with a straight kick to his head.

"Don't humor me Sergeant. Attack like you mean it." Scarlett said as Dusty climbed to his feet. This time he charged and she side stepped. He threw a series of punches that she blocked and dodged. Next he sent a kick toward her stomach that she stepped into and countered two quick punches to his chest. He stepped back and circled as she stood loosely. He rushed her and swung a roundhouse punch the she caught and used to throw him across the mat. This time he didn't get up.

She looked at the remaining group, noticing they were now taking her more seriously. This wasn't the first time she had to make an example.

"You," she said pointing to Snake Eyes. "Let's see what you have."

Snake Eyes bowed and stepped forward. She realized, by the way he moved, that this would be more of a challenge. She took a defensive stance as she saw several of the men silently rooting for Snake Eyes to knock her down.

He moved forward so quick she could barely dodge his strike. She back pedaled and he closed. They exchanged blows for a minute, neither landing anything. She threw the spin kick that had won countless tournaments at his head, but he was gone before she had turned. He swung a kick before she was on balance that she somehow deflected. Then he charged forward, like Dusty she noticed, and swung a roundhouse punch. It was sloppier than his other moves, she thought, as she caught it and sent him flying. The men clapped lightly as she walked over and extended her hand.

"Duke and Snake Eyes, report to General Hawk's office," Dial-Tone's voice said over the speaker.

"Everyone pair up, and we'll see what you can do," Scarlett said as she joined Stalker, Duke and Snake.

"You let me win." She whispered angrily. "You took it easy on me the whole time."

Snake Eyes looked at her a moment and nodded toward the others, paired up and beginning to spar. Then he turned and left with Duke.

"I don't get it," She said lightly to Stalker.

"He didn't want you to lose face," Stalker explained. "Snakes knew that it would be harder to do your job if he won."

"How good is he? He held back the whole time and I could barely keep up."

"Like Duke said," Stalker smiled. "Hes the best."

Hawk's office,

"We may have a break," Hawk said as Duke and Snake Eyes entered and closed the door. He pointed to the screen on his wall displaying photos of a middle aged Hispanic man. "This is Carlos Vazquez, the Colombian drug lord. He was part of the Headman's operation but has split away. I want you two to bring him back for questioning."

"He's been staying at his sugar plantation in the lowlands." Hawk tapped a button and several photographs of the estate and maps of the area came up. "We estimate no more than twenty guards armed with the normal mishmash of assault weapons. He does have more forces but they're currently engaged in a war with the Headman. Also he 'contributes' to the local Army barracks so they could intervene if it gets out of hand."

"You go in by CRRC [combat rubber raiding craft], I figure this inlet is your best landing zone" Hawk pointed to the map. "Take him alive if possible, along with any intel you can grab. Once there the go status is your decision. If you don't think it's doable back off and we'll try something else. Any questions?"

"Do we have floor plans?" Duke asked.

"We're not sure how accurate but yes. Scarlett dealt with Vazquez when she was with the FBI. I'll send her and Beach Head to you; he's our expert on Colombia."

"I'd like to see Wild Bill to go over extraction sites."

"No problem. He's on a supply run now but is do back in an hour. Here's everything we have on Vazquez," Hawk added as he handed Duke a few files. "Along with up to date imaging and weather reports. I expect you both to be off the ground in six hours."

Next up: Baroness meets Destro, Storm Shadow kicks some donkey. Snake Eyes and Duke get sent out. We get a look in the armory and get to know some more Joes.

Notes: I've changed a few ranks here, most obviously Scarlett's and Dusty's. I stole Delta Force's selection method of not taking anyone under a certain rank. My cutoffs are sergeant and first lieutenant.

Also I wanted Scarlett in a command position so she had more reason to interact with the others.

The CRRC is just an inflatable rubber raft. It's a bit sturdier than commercial ones and can carry up to eight men. Which comes to my next note. I thought it would be more fun to use actual military vehicles rather than the ones from the toy.


	8. Chapter 8

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force**

Chapter 8

The Pit,

"Welcome to weapons familiarization," Zap said to the field team; minus Duke, Snake Eyes and Beach Head. "I realize you are all expert marksmen. We're not worried about that. This is just to introduce you to what you'll be using here."

"Our primary ammunition will be 7.62x51mm and .45 ACP." Zap continued. He was in his forties with still dark hair and a pencil mustache. The Master Sergeant's parents had moved from Puerto Rico to New York City when he was a baby and he had joined the Army at eighteen. A member of the 82cd Airborne, his area of expertise was engineering and ordinance. He held up the rifle in front of him.

"Most of you are familiar with this weapon. It's the MK17 SCAR-H. It has interchangeable barrels; a short CQB, the standard assault version and a long designated marksman version. As you probably figured out it's chambered for 7.62 and uses a twenty round box magazine. It's rail system can handle the usual attachments and it accepts the MK13 grenade launcher."

"This is the HK USP Tactical sidearm." Zap set the rifle down and picked up a pistol. "This will be the standard sidearm, though you are welcome to provide your own. Just be advised that you will have to provide ammunition if it doesn't accept .45ACP." He set the pistol down and picked up another rifle.

"I know all of you are familiar with this. It's the MK14 EBR marksman rifle. It's an updated M14 with a lighter weight and a rail system. Also we have the M40AS and M110 sniper rifles. Weapons I'm sure you are already familiar with."

"This is the HK UMP .45T, just off the shelf." Zap held up the submachine gun. "This version has an improved tactical rail and less recoil." He set it down and picked up a shotgun. "This of course is the M1014 twelve gauge. It's semi-automatic and is based on the Benelli M4."

"We also have the usual M870s for those old timers." Zap set the gun down and pointed to a locker. "The majority of you are familiar with the Barrett M82A3 rifle. I don't feel like picking the damn thing up so you'll have to see it on your own time. It and the bolt action M107 fire .50BMG rounds. Also we have the old fashioned M2HB fifty machine guns."

"Roadblock and Rock N Roll are going to assist me on the next guns. Besides the M240 machine gun we have the MK48." He pointed over to where Rock N Roll stood cradling a weapon. The six two blond came to the Joes from the Rangers. "It's based on the M249 SAW but is chambered in 7.62 like the M240."

"Now for something none of you are familiar with," Zap said motioning towards Roadblock. The six foot six black man had strapped a large case to his back and picked up a large six barreled gun in both hands. The bald Marine didn't struggle at all with gun as he attached an ammo belt from the case. "This is the XM28 4.6mm mini gun. The backpack holds 1200 rounds, which will last all of thirty seconds on full auto."

"That's it for personal weapons. We have the usual explosive and anti-armor devices so I won't bring them out. If you have any questions you can ask them on the firing range. Everyone grab a MK17 and head for the elevators."

"I think we covered everything," Duke said as he got up from the table in the small briefing room. Scarlett, Beach Head, Wild Bill and Snake Eyes stood up as well. "Bill we'll meet you in the hanger in three hours. Snake and I need to gear up and hit the armory."

"See you there, pard," Wild Bill emphasized the last word in an exaggerated Texas drawl. He was of average height with his red hair hid under a blue U.S. cavalry hat, which oddly didn't clash with his gray fatigues.

"Scarlett, Hawk wanted you to take charge of Intel on our op. You're to report to him at 0600. Beach, the rest of the team should be at firing range B."

Duke and Snake started to head for the barracks when Scarlett spoke up.

"Snake Eyes, do you have a moment?"

Snake nodded for Duke to continue and walked to her.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier." She said. "I didn't realize why you took it easy on me."

No problem he gestured.

"You don't talk much, do you?" She said as he gestured again. Scarlett caught on after the second time through the gesture. "Oh, ASL. So you can't speak at all?"

He shook his head no.

"I understand ASL, my grandfather was deaf. I'm a little rusty though."

Snake Eyes gave her a thumbs up and nodded reassuringly.

"Well I had better let you go," She said and turned to leave. "But I was wondering..?"

Yes? He signed.

"Would you mind training me?"

Snake thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Thanks. I'll see you when you get back."

Caracas, Venezuela

The road continued as the tropical forest stopped. They had seen the surveillance photos but still were stunned by the ancient castle rising up from the Venezuelan hillside. The limo stopped at a guardhouse manned by a squad of Anglo soldiers dressed in traditional Scottish uniforms, including kilt and bonnet. A moment later they were waved through and continued another half mile to the main entrance. They were waived through and the limo stopped at a wide and steep set of stairs leading to the manor house. Two squads stood at attention in rows leading from the door to the bottom step. A black and gold carpet ran down the steps between the two squads.

Two men dressed in traditional uniforms walked down the steps, the youngest opened the door to the limo. Storm Shadow climbed out, did a quick check and motioned the Baroness to follow.

"Welcome to Castle Destro, Baroness De Cobray." The older man said. "I'm Sergeant Major Dobbie of the 7th Highland Grenadiers."

"Impressive," The Baroness said looking around. The squads at attention wore the modern black uniforms of the Iron Grenadier, including body armor and medieval style helmet and face mask. Security cameras were set up to allow no blind spots and she was certain weapons were trained on them all.

"Yes, mum. Laird McCullen had it shipped here stone by stone from his ancestral home. My Laird asks if you both would like to discuss business over dinner. Though he is perfectly willing to handle this transaction before dining."

"My colleague has other business tonight so we would prefer to settle this as quickly as possible."

"Of course. I will escort you to the Lairds office. Your guards can wait in the main hall."

The Pit,

"Everything looks good," Ace said as he and Wild Bill finished the pre-flight check on the MH-47 Chinook. "Who's your crew, this time?"

"Looks like Flash, Mutt, Short-Fuse and Lifeline." Wild Bill said. The Chief Warrant Officer had been a senior pilot in the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment when Hawk had hijacked his career. He stroked his red handlebar mustache as he signed off on the checklist. "I hope they're entertaining; I may be stuck with them a coupla days."

"In beautiful Guantanamo Bay. Try not to get sun burned."

"Remember the good old days when we had a hundred bases in the area."

"Land, refuel then wait for the signal. You'll probably be able to get some beach time."

Castle Destro, Venezuela

The Sergeant Major escorted his two guests to a large oak door. He rang a buzzer and then opened the large door as it clicked.

"Sir your guests. The Baroness Anastasia De Cobray and Mr. Thomas Arashikage. This is James McCullen, twenty-fourth Laird of Castle Destro."

"Thank you Sergeant Major," McCullen said as he stood up. "That will be all for now."

"Very good, Sir." And with a salute he left, the door shutting behind him.

"Welcome, can I interest you in something to drink?" McCullen asked as he bowed to his guests.

"No thank you," The Baroness said as she studied the him, realizing that he had a gun holstered beneath his tailored blue jacket. "We are only here a short time and have much to do."

"Then to business," McCullen said as he motioned for the two to take seats. "Have a seat and lets talk." He walked back and sat down behind his very old oak desk. Behind him was a display case of medieval weaponry, the center piece a claymore sword and a rusting iron mask.

"So what can I get for you?"

"We're looking to replace our existing armament. At the moment we need one thousand assault rifles five hundred carbines, one hundred light machine guns, one hundred medium machine guns and fifty light anti-tank weapons. Also we are aware of your XGG-96 and would be interested in purchasing a few of the prototypes."

McCullen hit a few keys on the computer on his desk. "Let's see, that's a large shipment. I'm assuming you want MARS designed weapons. Here we go. I have eight hundred MR-111 5.56 rifles in stock and I can supplement that with two hundred MR-6 6.8mm rifles. For the carbine I have enough MC-19s to cover your shipment. They are also 5.56. Or I have several choices among FN and HK."

"Your selections are fine. What about the machine guns?"

"The light guns are no problem. I can set you you up with seventy-five MMG-22s and twenty-five MMG-24s. They are practically identical except the 22 shoots 5.56 and the 24 shoots 7.62. The medium gun I would just suggest more MMG-24s. I have some older MMG-12s; but the 24 is superior. The LAWs I can give you a mix of disposable and core systems. I have ten XGG prototypes available, at a million and a half each. I should warn you, we still haven't gotten their weight down to a manageable size. At least for a normal soldier."

"That part is not a problem. How soon can the shipment be delivered?"

"I'd say it would take four shipments, the first could be sent in a week. The normal payment procedures will work."

"That will be fine. I was also told to ask about your High Intensity Scout System and STUN cars."

"Both are still in design, but we should have working models within three months. I do have some former Soviet light tanks available if you need an armor option now."

"I will discuss that with my employer. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you for your business. If you two would like to dine with me, my chef has done an excellent job of turning the local ingredients into something civilized."

"Once again, thank you. But I'm afraid we have more business to attend to."

"Of course." McCullen smiled as he noticed Storm Shadow glance at the weapons display for the seventh time since they arrived. "You are curious about the sword, Mr. Arashikage?"

"Yes," He said. "It looks formidable."

"At one time it was. Now it is next to worthless. That has been the blade of the Laird Destro for seven hundred years. Last used in battle in 1811 by the eighteenth Laird. The mask above it belonged to the the ninth Laird, my namesake. The French placed it on him as punishment for selling to both sides. That was in 1641 I believe. We keep it as a reminder."

"A reminder not to deal to both sides?" Storm asked.

"A reminder not to get caught," McCullen laughed. "The Sergeant Major is here to escort you out. Good evening to you both."

Caribbean Sea, Near Colombia

The MH-47G Chinook flew low over the water, the black twin rotor helicopter barely visible in the inky blackness. Inside Duke, Snake Eyes, Short-Fuse and Flash finished inflating the combat rubber raiding craft.

"Eight minutes to site," Wild Bill said over the headsets they all wore. "You boys are about to experience the smoothest rubber duck insertion ever."

"You going to let Lifeline fly for you Bill?" Duke asked as he re-checked his weapons. "Or have you been practicing since Sri Lanka?"

"Y'all hush back there. Let me see you Charlie Mike with the chopper on fire and being shot at." Bill moved the helicopter lower. "Instead of flappin' your gums you better make sure you got everything stowed and ready."

"Sri Lanka?" Lifeline asked from the copilots seat. The medic wore a standard issue Army flight crew uniform like the rest of the crew.

"Hush-hush stuff, pard. A patrol boat got lucky and saw us fly overhead. Hit us with a rocket and sent tracers at us. I still got our boat in the water and sunk theirs."

"Let's hope this one's easier," Duke said. He and Snake Eyes wore black wetsuits over their uniforms.

Snake Eyes checked to make sure their gear was secure in the boat as Flash and Short-Fuse attached the motor.

Duke and Snake Eyes pulled their hoods over their heads and put on goggles. Flash and Short-Fuse moved to the side of the boat as Wild Bill lowered the rear cargo door.

"One minute'" Bill announced and brought the Chinook down to six feet over the water. The four in the back grabbed hold of the boat. Wild Bill announced the all clear and they unstrapped the boat and pushed the boat out. Duke hooked his fingers behind his neck and stepped out into the water; quickly followed by Snake Eyes. They Swam to the boat and climbed in.

Caracas, Venezuela

It was not the tallest building in Caracas' business district, but it was definitely one of the most lavish. No one noticed the Japanese man come in with the late night cleaning crew. He entered the elevator with the same crew, but stayed on as they exited. When the doors opened at the next level he was gone.

The Headman's living quarters is on the top floor. Office and guard station on the floor below. Storm Shadow thought as he climbed the elevator cable. Sensors on the elevator doors on both floors. Eight of his personal guard, called headhunters between the elevator and the door to the targets suite. Should be armed with MP5s and handguns, all veterans of the Venezuelan Army.

He reached the top and peered through a vent above the elevator doors. Eight guards stood in the narrow hall way. Good kill zone, he thought. Definitely not amateurs. Cameras faced the doors and two more faced the suite door.

Eight guards, plus two on the other side of that door. The Headman had come up with one of his newer escorts two hours early and should be occupied or asleep, Storm shook his head at the thought of what he may have to see.

Storm Shadow checked the maintenance hatch above his head. Sloppy, they wired the doors but not this. He pushed the door up and pulled himself into the crawl space. Drop ceiling, he shook his head again. And no cameras up here, maybe I was wrong about their not being amateurs.

He crawled forward slowly, careful to keep his weight on the frame and not the tiles. The drop ceiling ended at the suite, but a ventilation shaft ran through it. Noticing a space above the shaft he climbed up and crawled along it.

Another drop ceiling, he thought after crawling a few feet. This guy was begging for this to happen. Remembering the layout he climbed off the shaft and crawled to the far left. Storm pulled up a ceiling tile and peaked through.

The Headman slept in a huge bed, a rather attractive Hispanic girl slept beside him. She looks fifteen, Storm thought, disgusted. He dropped down to the soft carpet and walked over to the bed. A gun sat in a holster on the bedside table and Storm pocketed it.

"Huh," the Headman mumbled as he came awake; feeling something cold across his throat. He came fully awake as he saw a man dressed in white standing over him.

"Shh," Storm Shadow whispered as he pushed the sword against the drug lords neck. "We don't want to wake the girl." He looked down at the short, fat, greasy man and moved the sword just enough to draw blood.

"What do you want?" The Headman asked quietly, feeling a trickle of blood slide down his neck.

"I come from Cobra. We wish to continue our arrangement and have heard you are having second thoughts. This of course must be a misunderstanding. Am I right?"

"Cobra is bringing the wrong kind of attention to me. After what happened in Mexico I'm afraid of loosing more money."

"You stand to lose more by not cooperating." Storm told him sheathing his sword. "I'm a reminder that you will be held to your obligations."

"Headhunters!" The Headman yelled as he saw the man put his weapon away. Storm Shadow smiled as he heard the guards running toward him.

The two men rushed through the door and Storm threw a throwing knife into the throat of the first. The second raised his gun and Storm swept one of his swords up and jabbed it through his chest. He turned as heard the girl scream and saw the Headman holding her in front of him as he radioed the other guards.

"Pathetic," he snarled as he heard the outer doors burst open. He leaped up into the ceiling as all eight guards rushed in.

"What's happening?" The lead guard asked as Storm Shadow dropped behind them. Twin swords thrust through two guards backs and then Storm was among them, a ninja-to in each hand. He slashed one across the chest and another across the throat. The leader raised his gun and Storm threw a sword, the blade spearing through his heart; causing the mans trigger finger to tighten and fire a short burst, wounding another guard.

Storm Shadow kicked one of the men as his sword sliced through another. Then he drew the Headman's pistol and shot the the wounded man and the one he kicked. He tossed the gun to the floor and pulled his sword from the one guard, sheathing both blades.

"You have been warned," He told the Headman and calmly walked out the door.

Notes: A rubber duck insertion is just as I described. You fly the helicopter almost down to the water and push the boat out, loaded with the teams weapons and gear. The team then follows one at a time, with their hands clasped behind their necks and waist bent slightly.

The ninja-to was traditionally a thrusting weapon due to it's straight blade and usually cheap manufacture. I'm assuming that with modern materials it would be able to have a sharper blade and could be used to stab or slice.

Lastly I received a question about changing the origin of the tattoos on Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow. The ninjas primary tactic was to blend in, which meant a lot of time pretending to be someone else. I always thought it was silly that a ninja clan would have a huge distinguishing mark on an area easily viewable by everyone.


	9. Chapter 9

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force**

Chapter 9

Colombia,

They had motored the raft to within a half mile of shore, then paddled the rest of the way. They found a small stand mangrove trees and rowed into them and pulled the raft to shore. Duke checked his GPS against a map and signaled Snake Eyes they were in the right place.

The two quickly unloaded their gear and pulled the raft into a dense stand of trees and turned it upside down. Then they stripped off the wetsuits and stuffed them into a dry bag and shoved it under the raft.

Duke straightened his forest camouflaged fatigues and then pulled a paint kit from the front shirt pocket. He smeared some green paint in his hands with spit, then covered his face, neck and ears. Next he used brown and black paint to break up the outline of his eyes, nose and mouth; and rubbed his hands over his face, smearing the regularity from the pattern.

"Maybe I should start wearing a mask," Duke said as he saw Snake Eyes already geared up. Snake wore black fatigues with a slight dark brown camouflaged pattern, as well as his mask and visor. His web gear held several knives and grenades and he had an USP Tactical pistol belted at his hip. He had already pulled on his backpack and slung a MP7A1 over his shoulder. He carried a MK17 SCAR with a thirteen inch close quarters barrel and an attached suppressor and holographic diffraction sight.

Snake Eyes made a gesture that, Duke decided, meant it would improve his looks. Duke had his web gear in place and was attaching a few grenades, along with a holster for his USP Tactical. He had a matching pistol on his right hip and a Randall MK1 fighting knife on his other. Finishing, he slung on his backpack with a M72A7 LAW hung underneath and picked up another SCAR, this one with a standard sixteen inch barrel and a MK13 40mm grenade launcher.

Duke pointed in the direction they were heading and took point, winding his way through the dense forest. He found an animal trail that ran toward his first landmark and the two sped along. After a mile the tropical forest spread out and Duke stopped to recheck his coordinates, before leaving the trail.

Just before sunrise they stopped on a hill overlooking a large field. Past the field they could see the cleared edge of the compound. The main house was large and surrounded by a manicured lawn. To one side was a decent sized pool, on the other a three car garage. To the west of the house were five huge green houses and a small barn. To the east was a barracks and a couple of small sheds. Planted in the field between them and the house were row after row of coca plants.

"Odd looking sugar plantation," Duke muttered.

Snake Eyes nodded and pointed to a small junk yard close to the compound.

"Sloppy. But that'll keep us hidden until tonight." Duke said as the two worked toward the junk pile.

The Pit 06:45

Rock N Roll had lead the field team through the morning warm up and was working their way through today's upper body exercises; Mainly pushups and situps, but with pullups thrown in as well. The morning PT exercises were split into into two drills which alternated daily. Drill one was exercises designed to improve coordination and flexibility, along with the routine amount of pushups. Drill two, today's routine, was designed to improve upper body strength.

He liked this group. Everyone of them was a professional, the best he had served with since joining the Army twelve years ago. Rock N Roll had grown up on the Californian beaches and had learned to surf just after he learned to walk. His teenage years had found him lifting weights and playing guitar in a local alternative band. He had joined the Army to pay for college and see what the rest of the world was like; and found he enjoyed the life. Enjoyed it so much he made it through Airborne and Ranger school and then G.I. Joe selection.

As they finished the last of the pushups and stood up, he caught Beach Heads look and smiled inwardly. He had been one of the lucky ones to go through Ranger school with Sergeant Sneeden as an instructor. Beach Head was tougher than the other instructors but knew exactly how to encourage them to make it through. The results were that the course had the highest graduation percentage ever, not to mention the toughest group of Rangers.

The fourteen men formed up with Rock N Roll and Stalker at the head and took off on the daily five mile run. Flint ran next to Gung Ho, everyone keeping the same steady pace. He was around five foot ten with average length dark hair. A veteran of nineteen years, he had come to the Joe team five months ago at Duke's request.

Flint had finished his English Lit degree with no idea of what he wanted to do. On a whim he joined the Army and quickly became a member of the 82cd Airborne. He had joined the Rangers and was part of Task Force Ranger at Mogadishu. Then came the Special Forces, where he served under Duke as part of a six man hunter squad; along with Recondo and Spirit. Deciding he wanted to do something different he went to flight school and was given charge of his own special rescue team.

They finished the run at just under the forty minutes allotted for it. Rock N Roll lead them through another ten minutes of cool down exercises and dismissed them. The Team headed for the showers, hygiene being a bit more difficult for them than other units due to the non regulation hair cuts and facial hair. After showers would be breakfast and then they would be broken into teams to run various simulations.

Caracas, Venezuela

"You want me to cut my oil production!" The President Snarled as he stood up.

"Yes, we need to force America to move the Canadian pipeline project along." The Baroness calmly said as she sat on the comfortable looking sofa. Storm Shadow stood behind her, arms crossed and an emotionless expression on his face.

"That is ridiculous! My country is facing hard enough struggles to be able to endure this!"

"What you've done to your economy is no concern of ours. We've kept you in power and kept you safe. Remember, the weakling the Americans have in power won't be there forever. Their next President may not be so tolerant of your... eccentricities."

"I will not do this!"

"You will do this. Cobra will not tolerate anything else."

"I am the President of Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela." He said sitting down. "I will not take orders from some organization that thinks it controls the world."

"So be it," the Baroness said with a sigh as she pressed a button on her wrist watch. "You have a lovely view of your latest refinery."

"You think to flatter me now that your threats have failed?" He sneered.

"No, I just want your attention focused there." She said as the ground shook. The president jumped to his feet as an explosion ripped through the refinery, ink black smoke swirling upward towards the mushroom cloud that formed over it.

"It appears someone detonated a small nuclear device over your 'shining example of Venezuelan independence'. That should slow your production down to acceptable levels. I hope there is no need for further, incidents. Good day, Mr. President." She stood up, smoothed the skirt of her business suit and motioned to Storm Shadow that it was time to leave.

The Pit

"Sir, we have a situation in Venezuela," Scarlett said as Hawk came into the intelligence pod. The pod was large oval, two thirds of it's wall space was covered in television screens and computer monitors. A long table was covered with teletype machines carrying news from all over the world. Mainframe sat at one of the two desks in the room, Scarlet had just risen from the other.

"What is it?"

"We've detected a small yield nuclear blast just outside Caracas. At the new refinery site. Bring it up, Mainframe."

An image from a satellite was played on the largest screen in the room. Mainframe worked the keyboard, zooming in, showing each stage of the explosion.

"Okay, any idea on the damage?"

"Nothing tangible. The smoke has the area covered pretty well. We're assuming several hundred dead and some environmental damage." Scarlett said. As she spoke Mainframe had tuned in several news channels on the surrounding screens.

"It will probably be a half hour before the networks pick up on this," Mainframe said. He had been with Hawk since the late nineties and was known for saying little. His salt and pepper hair was cut to Marine regulation even though it had been years since he had been a part of the Corps. He had joined the Marines out of high school and seen action in Beirut and Grenada. After that he had gone to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and left with degrees in electrical engineering and computer science. A short stint in the private sector had left him solid financially and bored out of his mind. So he had re-enlisted, this time in the Army; where he had eventually caught the eye of Hawk.

"I'll put Ace on this. You keep working Colombia, but keep a close eye in case this bleeds over and involves our team. Put Wild Bill on alert, I want the chopper ready to go at a moments notice."

A Secret Lab, somewhere in the U.S.

"Is everything on schedule, Doctor?" The helmeted face of Cobra Commander asked from the communications screen.

"Yes, Commander." The bald scientist said from his office. "We will have ten subjects ready in a month. I have yet to isolate the cause of the deaths of the other forty."

"Keep at it. We need an eighty percent success rate for this to work."

"Of course. I may have to acquire more outside assistance."

"Nothing as overt as the last time, Mindbender. We lost several good agents and brought attention to ourselves. You will inform me of all future operations. I will not tolerate another incident."

"Yes, ...Commander." Doctor Mindbender said, stroking the prosthetic that had replaced his left hand after the failure.

"As long as you understand me. Now how goes our other project?"

Colombia,

Duke awoke at dusk. He and Snake Eyes had taken turns resting since reaching their position in a hollow underneath what looked like the skeleton of a Cadillac. He looked at the log book he and Snake had kept. No one had come or gone all day. The patrols were sloppy, but something had put them on alert this afternoon.

At dark they started making their move. Slowly moving from the junk yard to one of the green houses. They crawled along the length of it, taken their time since there was too much light from the plantation to use night vision. It was a hundred yards from the green house to the garage with little cover. Two man patrols walked the open space between the house and the rest of the compound, at fifteen to twenty minute intervals. The plan was to let the next patrol pass and make a low dash to an uneven section of ground. Then wait for the next patrol.

The patrol passed and the two ran about thirty yards and threw themselves to the ground. They lay still, making sure no one spotted them. After no alarm was raised they relaxed and waited for the next patrol. Again they ran as soon as the patrol passed and took cover in the flower beds that separated the house's lawn from open space. Another twenty minutes and they would cover the twenty yards to the garage.

The quiet of the night was being over taken by the distant roar of engines, steadily growing as they drew closer. Duke and Snake Eyes hugged the ground tighter. Soon they could make out that it was motorcycle engines, at least a dozen and something bigger.

Duke decided they couldn't wait where they were and motioned to Snake Eyes. He nodded and took off in a hunched over run. Duke checked to see if anyone noticed then followed. They had reached the garage when the vehicles arrived. Twenty motorcycles rushed the plantation, followed by a suped up muscle car. Guards rushed to stop them, standing in the road with there guns at the ready. The motorcycles slowed and parted as the car sped up, running down three of the guards and opening up on the house with what sounded like a fifty caliber machine gun.

The men on the motorcycles started firing their own guns, not seeming to care what they were shooting at. The shooting stopped and four of the motorcycles pulled up to the door. Four men stepped off the bikes, one about the size of a small mountain. He swung a sledge hammer, taking the door down with the second swing. Another stepped forward and sent several bursts of flame from a flame thrower through the door.

Gunfire erupted as the guards outside regrouped. Duke and Snake Eyes ran for the house, deciding they didn't have time to wait. At the door, the two other men stepped inside, one kicking a burning corpse out of the way. The other shot a man on the stairs with an Uzi.

The car stopped at the door and a bald man in black leather got out of the passenger side. He strolled inside as the gunfire died down again.

"This room's clean, Zartan." The one with the flame thrower said as they watched a burnt guard try to crawl away.

"Good, Torch. Road Pig guard the door, our target should be upstairs."

Snake Eyes climbed in a window, then waved Duke in as he checked the room was clear. They crept into the hall, smelling smoke as they made it to the still burning entry. The near seven foot man stood in the doorway, facing the outside. His hair was dyed white and red on his too small head. He wore jeans and black football pads and carried a sawed off shotgun in one hand and a large sledgehammer in the other. They saw the four at the top of the stairs, Duke glancing worriedly at Snake Eyes as he saw Zartan.

As the four walked out of sight, Snake Eyes crept by Road Pig and quietly went up the steps. He reached the top and motioned Duke to follow. Duke stopped as one of the burnt men started moaning, waiting for the large man to turn, but he just snickered and kept his eyes glued to the outside. At the top he saw Zartan and the three Dreadnoks being held back by a few guards that had barricaded the hallway. Duke motioned Snake Eyes into the room across from them and the two stepped inside.

"He's probably holed up in his office." Duke whispered, crossing to a window. "That's supposed to be the third room over. Think you can shimmy over and get him?" Snake looked outside and nodded before taking off his pack. He crawled out the window and worked his way to the next room.

Duke peeked out the door and saw Torch moving forward, fire streaming from the flame thrower. The guards broke cover and ran and the other two Dreadnoks picked them off. Duke ducked back inside as Zartan joined Torch.

"Cash and Hart, watch the hall." Zartan ordered as he followed Torch. He walked up to the third door and pulled out three small explosive charges, attaching one each to the hinges and door lock.

Snake Eyes had made it to the window. He saw that the two men inside had pushed furniture against the door and were cowering behind the desk. He tried the window and found it open, then slowly raised it. Snake Eyes slipped inside as the door blew, causing the barricade to jump slightly. One of the men charged the doorway and was shot several times with a large caliber handgun. Snake Eyes opened fire with his MP7, causing the people on the other side of the barricade to jump back.

Duke had slipped a silencer onto one of his USP pistols and stepped outside. As the doorway exploded, he fired two shots into each of the Dreadnoks skulls. He holstered the pistol and shouldered his SCAR, opening fire as he heard Snake Eyes' gun.

Taken by surprise, Zartan and Torch jumped into an open door. Duke retreated to the cover of the doorway and aimed down the hall.

Snake Eyes turned to the man behind the desk as he heard Duke open fire. The tall, thin, heavily bearded man raised to his knees, his eyes widening at the sight of the masked man in front of him.

"Who sent you?" Carlos Vazquez asked, cowering. Snake Eyes motioned for the drug lord to stand up. Vazquez stood, taking a step away from Snake Eyes and then realizing there was no where to run.

"I have money," he said pointing to a brief case. Snake Eyes ignored him and pointed to the computer on his desk. "You want information?"

"On the desk, the portable hard drive. I loaded everything moments ago." Snake put the hard drive in a water proof pouch and pointed the gun at Vazquez.

"Don't kill me. That's all I have." He whimpered as Snake Eyes stood waiting. "Fine here," Vazquez handed a flash drive over. "There's more stuff in the briefcase."

Snake Eyes picked up the briefcase and motioned towards the window. Vazquez crossed to it and looked outside, seeing the occasional muzzle flash. Snake took the rope and grappling hook he had taken from his pack and hooked the rope to a leg of the heavy desk, then tossed the rope out the window. He motioned for Vazquez to climb down.

Duke fired the occasional shot down the hallway, keeping Zartan and Torch stuck in the room. He heard rocks hit the window and turned his head. Three quick beams of light told him it was time and he went to where he had already secured a rope. He tossed the loose end out the window and shouldered Snake Eyes' pack and gun, then quickly climbed down.

He saw Snake Eyes motion to him from the shadows and quickly ran over, passing Snake his pack. Duke saw Vazquez on the ground and motioned for him to get up.

"We're going to have to run for it," Duke told him. "Any tricks and we will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Vazquez whispered as Duke passed Snake Eyes his SCAR.

"Good. Your only value you have to us is information. So try not to forget anything as we go. Especially anything about Cobra."

"Cobra. I know about Cobra."

"Good, then stay behind me. My friend Snake Eyes will be behind you. Remember that."

Duke ran towards the coca fields, followed by the other two. They reached it as two motorcycles raced up to them. Duke and Snake Eyes threw themselves to the ground and Vazquez saw it as a chance to get away. He turned and ran for the road as a loud rumble came from in front of him. The roar became deafening as headlights suddenly switched on and the muscle car came flying at him; a sickening thud momentarily drowning out the engine as Vazquez was sent airborne.

Duke opened fire at the car as Snake Eyes did the same to the motorcycles. One motorcycle went down and the car swerved. Duke and Snake Eyes ran towards the forest as the sound of more engines sped toward them.

Lesson learned: A New Years in Las Vegas is not is conductive to fan fiction writing. With luck I'll be back on my self imposed schedule by this weekend.


	10. Chapter 10

G.I. Joe America's Special Missions Force

Thanks for the positive reviews. This was my first attempt at a fan fic and it was very encouraging to get support. Sadly life decided to get in the way and keep me from continuing for awhile. Now that I have time again I've found that I wasn't happy with this story. It kind of got bogged down and lost direction. At the current pace it would be three times the size of what I intended. I've decided to do a complete rewrite and trim some of the fat off of it. The first few chapters are just about done and I should have them posted soon. Once again, thanks everyone and I hope you enjoy the revised version.


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